Always pack a bag in your bag sir, and don’t forget your karma.

This opening post could have been entitled so many things, especially as queuing twice for the check-in abuse gave me plenty of time to mull it over.
I shouldn’t moan really, I was akin for it, but as a lot of my mood today (pacing the house, pacing Tomer’s garage, near silence on the way to the airport) was all caused by this on single attribute of my journey and my uncertainty towards it, i feel it is best to get it all off my chest immediately, and proceed hear with forward, with the excess baggage (to coin a phrase of the moment).

Now i know that stress caused by uncertainty sounds like a strange thing to worry about for one who is about to fly half way around the world to somewhere he has never been, alone, and with expectations of the unexpected. So let me tell you now, i embrace uncertainty, I love it in fact, to an extent, …it helps me embrace nature, chaos, the unknown and most importantly provides one of the main pieces of evidence to affirm that I am not turning into my mother! (sorry mum, but we all know uncertainty isn’t your forte, so allow me to use it to establish my individuality for now).
So back to the uncertainty. The worst uncertainty in the world is that which is governed by bureaucracy, raise a smile if you will, for i am at an airport.

Now i am fully aware that 34 kilos is the global unspoken law (they don’t have to speak it very often, rather than it actually being a secret) when it comes to single pieces of baggage, but then i also know what can be achieved through a smile and some common courtesy, especially if combined with an ounce of common sense.
So i queued, my single 37kilo bag in hand, smile on face, introduction at the ready.

“Just one bag sir?”

“Yes just one bag..”

“Please place it on the scales sir”

“..erm, ..before i do, could i just let you know that despite the size of my smile, i only weight 61 kilos as a person, and if you could bear that in mind before you look at the number ha is about to appear before you i would ….”

“Sir the maximum baggage allowance per bag is 32kilos, you are allowed 2 bags of 23 kilos”

(she didn’t say each, or together, and she sounded like an angry robot who possibly upon reflection didn’t see the humour in my statement of weight, ..and this was after i had chosen the lightest looking checkin lady (who again on reflection may have been a little too light after suffering either an eating disorder or some weight induced confidence issues)). [wonders if you the reader will notice the computer programmer in me remembering to close both sets of brackets].

..back to the conversation…

“No problem madam, I was ready for this, I have a bag in my bag, allow me quickly just to transfer a…”

“No sir, please go away and re-pack and then re-join the queue.”

“But it will only take me a minute …i just queued for 40 minutes to get here”

“Sir i see you did not pay for the compassion charge when you booked your flight”

Ok, she didn’t say that last bit, but it would have been quite amusing if she did.

Those who know me may be surprised to know that I did not fret, get angry of even huff, i calmly walked away and let karma deal with her and her eating disorder and found a corner to re-pack, then diligently re-queued which when faced with a terrible choice in line size to checkin speed ratio STILL managed to maintain my karmic zen state, eventually passed the check task with flying colours and no impact on my wallet.
‘Time not cash’ my t-shirt says, ..perhaps not intended as a mantra for the over baggage, but it comes to mind nonetheless.

What have i learned, …simple, ..a smile with a weight joke will not win over a person who has weight issues, be they the weight of your baggage, or that of their own emotional baggage, ….and, ..if you want to check in quickly, ..always go gay. Trust me on the last part.

So with that I shall now put my headphones on, walk past cars i will never stand a chance of winning, eat a sandwich that really shouldn’t costs that much and generally enjoy the remaining 40 minutes i have in the departure lounge of terminal 4, heathrow.

And to all of you who sent me a text wishing me a nice flight/holiday/etc …thank, ..consider this your reply. And to those who sent me a text asking if i had left yet, ..yes, ..and consider this your reply. And to those of you shocked that i have just started three sentences on a row with the word ‘and’ either get over it, or distract yourself by going back and counting how many times i used a small ‘i’ when referring to myself in this post.